My Mortal
by Brazzlegirl
Summary: A TF2 one-shot inspired by an RP I'm in. I got thinking about how my characters would be long gone or dead in this time, and this is the product.


**Like it says in the description, this is a one-shot I wrote based on a TF2 RP I'm in. It's my speculation on what would happen if Medic resigned. Anna, in case anyone wanted to know, is the fem!scout in the RP and she is darling so don't judge her.**

**So, here it is. Enjoy!**

* * *

Silence.

No shouting teammates, no fluttering doves, no distant explosions. Only silence. Choking, strangling, despairing silence that clung to the cold morning air. There was a certain stillness to everything as the sunlight poured in slowly, stifled by a thin fog that had rolled in overnight. It spilled in through the slatted blinds of the medical bay, the yellow light exposing the dust that swirled through the air.

It was almost a surreal feeling, as though one were looking into a dream or imagining a scene in some fairy tale. The infirmary, for once, saw the sunlight. It used to be under the clutter of scattered papers, blood stains and various medical supplies. But now, those were all gone. As the sun rose higher through the sky and cut through the fog, it rolled over the stunningly polished surface of the operating table. It looked as though someone had stayed up all night, painstakingly scrubbing the stains off of it and smoothing off every single scratch there was.

The miniature fridge was gone. The floors had been swept, perhaps even mopped. The surface of the desk was bare and for once, the color was visible. It was a light mahogany color. Not a speck of dust was on its surface. The drawers had been cleaned out, the back room, free of its clutter. One might consider it an entirely new room, just added on to an old one. Not even a single feather lay on the sterile surfaces.

The only thing out of the ordinary was a letter. The paper was white as snow and crisply folded into fourths, with only two words dictating who it belonged to etched in tiny, scrawling handwriting.

_RED Team_

If one had known the owner personally, they would know this was not like him, to leave something as organized and sharp as this. The letter was sitting in the direct center of the desk, untouched, unmoved, unopened. It had been written in the early hours of the morning, left for a certain Scout to find. On the inside, it was just as organized, penned neatly in ink. The margins were crisp, as though someone had held a ruler to them.

_This is goodbye. I only regret that it was so sudden. Yesterday was my last day before I resigned, but I couldn't bear to tell you all. I did not want to see the looks on your faces and back out of it. So I left in the middle of the night. I have been here for many years, far longer than anyone should have. It is time to let go._

_ But do not worry. I only ask that you carry on. I have spoken to my replacement, a young, chipper boy from somewhere in Sweden. His name is Lars. He is an actual doctor with a proper medical license and is legal in Amerika. You will finally be getting someone who is actually authorized and can take care of you, unlike me. My only request is that you treat him with kindness and welcome him and show him the ropes. Please, if not because you want to, then because it was my last request. _

_ Do not try to find me again. I am probably going back to Stuttgart after so long to live out the rest of my years in peace. When you think of me, think of me kindly, not with sorrow. Remember me, but not what I have done. Please. I'm pleading to you with all my heart. Do not remember anything I have done to you. I hurt you all too much. For that, I am deeply sorry. _

_ On a brighter note, I have left a surprise for Anna. Three, actually. Look up to the rafters. Make sure you take good care of them, they need it. _

_ -Fritz, your former medic_

_ P.S. I love you all. I do not know what will happen after I die. Frankly, the prospect scares me. But no matter what happens, no matter how my story ends, I will never forget you. _

The letter ended as abruptly as it began. Sunlight poured over the paper, brightening its white hue. It caressed the room with quiet serenity. Nothing stirred but the dust. A single, angelic white feather drifted to the ground. The three doves up the rafters didn't coo, however. They didn't make a single sound. Nothing made a sound. Nothing dared. There was only the sunlight. Only the cold, morning air.

Only silence.


End file.
